What else could go wrong?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything especially not Harry Potter.
A/N please forgive me if I do something wrong on this 'cause I really don't know what I'm doing. Anywho on with the story.
Chapter one: A motive
. " Nooo! Lucius please! Don't"
" Don't say my name wench!"
A very troubled sixteen year old sat at the top of a very large set of stairs. With his eyes closed tight trying to pretend that what he knew was happening in the down stairs study wasn't real. His left hand tightened around with wand. This had been happening almost as long as he could remember and he hated himself for it, for he was the reason she stayed in fear that he would turn on her precious son. He could do nothing to stop his father. He would wait until he perfected 'Avada Kedavra ' the killing curse, use it on Lucius and leave with his mother, somewhere safe, but places like that weren't common place anymore with the rise of the Dark Lord whom he supported or seemed to support he really wasn't sure who he supported now and the only safe place he could think of was Hogwarts, his school, and that was only when his crackpot muggle loving Headmaster Dumbledore was there.
'Soon, soon' he got up from his seat, the moonlight from the large window above the stairs light up his face. The moonlight made his pale skin and pale blonde hair look angelic, his expression flat and his blue grey eyes were hard and let no emotion pass. He learned a lot of this in this house one was not to let others know what you think and feel it was safer that way. Emotions could easily be used against you. He walked silently down the long corridor and up some stairs to his room not even his shoes made a sound on the cold stone and marble floors polished so well you could see your reflection as you walked. He opened a large mahogany door to reveal his room.
It was very large with a very high ceiling but extremely sparse. On the left wall was a bare stone fireplace, over the mantel hung a mint condition racing broom from the thirties. In front of the fireplace sat a lonely black high backed armchair turned away from the door on the right wall was a four-poster bed in black and silver silk dressings a bare nightstand next to it furthest from the door a small lantern sat there disrupting it cleanness. The farthest wall was mostly floor to ceiling windows with large black curtains with sliver ties. In the left corner of that wall stood a bookcase that you couldn't quiet get to for in front of it sat a trunk the letters D.M welded onto it's side in sliver, all packed and ready to go to Hogwarts the next day even his racing broom had been packed away. In the other corner stood an antique wardrobe.
He sighed deeply, staggered slightly into the room and got ready for bed. He crawled into the silk bedding in nothing but some green silk boxers (his families a big fan of silk if you haven't noticed) and slipped into a nightmarish sleep filled with his mothers screams, his fathers insults, The Dark Lords high laugh and Harry Potter laughing with his friends as if there wasn't a war going on outside Hogwarts' walls. Lord he hated Harry Potter.
He awoke at Dawn the light hitting his face,' I forgot to close the curtains damn it. Oh well' he didn't care very much about waking up early anyway he was excited about going back to Hogwarts again. It was his sixth year there. He quickly got dressed (a black turtleneck, tan dockers and black and white sneakers) and called for some house elves to take his trunk down to the car.
At breakfast he sat with his back to the door, his father the end of the long banquet table his mother at the other. Draco looked at his mother, she looked no worse for ware but she had that far of look in her eyes once more.
Lucius looked at his only son and heir with piercing blue grey eyes, "So you're a perfect Draco." His father spoke coldly trying to gain control of the silence.
"Yes." Draco speared a piece of bacon.
" Your grades must be better if you want to be Head boy next year." A slight anger under toning his voice.
'My grades are the best in Slytherine and better then you could ever do! You ASSHOLE!! ' He thought to himself," I'm first or second in all my classes you BLOODY GIT! Only the Mudblood does any better, and she doesn't have to think about half the things I do!' Draco smirked into his plate; his father was such a moron, " Yes sir"
After breakfast he kissed his mother goodbye, Hugging her tightly he whispered into her ear, " Soon". Then he was almost shoved out the door. He opened the car door, 'soon!'
Disclaimer: I don't own anything especially not Harry Potter.
A/N please forgive me if I do something wrong on this 'cause I really don't know what I'm doing. Anywho on with the story.
Chapter one: A motive
. " Nooo! Lucius please! Don't"
" Don't say my name wench!"
A very troubled sixteen year old sat at the top of a very large set of stairs. With his eyes closed tight trying to pretend that what he knew was happening in the down stairs study wasn't real. His left hand tightened around with wand. This had been happening almost as long as he could remember and he hated himself for it, for he was the reason she stayed in fear that he would turn on her precious son. He could do nothing to stop his father. He would wait until he perfected 'Avada Kedavra ' the killing curse, use it on Lucius and leave with his mother, somewhere safe, but places like that weren't common place anymore with the rise of the Dark Lord whom he supported or seemed to support he really wasn't sure who he supported now and the only safe place he could think of was Hogwarts, his school, and that was only when his crackpot muggle loving Headmaster Dumbledore was there.
'Soon, soon' he got up from his seat, the moonlight from the large window above the stairs light up his face. The moonlight made his pale skin and pale blonde hair look angelic, his expression flat and his blue grey eyes were hard and let no emotion pass. He learned a lot of this in this house one was not to let others know what you think and feel it was safer that way. Emotions could easily be used against you. He walked silently down the long corridor and up some stairs to his room not even his shoes made a sound on the cold stone and marble floors polished so well you could see your reflection as you walked. He opened a large mahogany door to reveal his room.
It was very large with a very high ceiling but extremely sparse. On the left wall was a bare stone fireplace, over the mantel hung a mint condition racing broom from the thirties. In front of the fireplace sat a lonely black high backed armchair turned away from the door on the right wall was a four-poster bed in black and silver silk dressings a bare nightstand next to it furthest from the door a small lantern sat there disrupting it cleanness. The farthest wall was mostly floor to ceiling windows with large black curtains with sliver ties. In the left corner of that wall stood a bookcase that you couldn't quiet get to for in front of it sat a trunk the letters D.M welded onto it's side in sliver, all packed and ready to go to Hogwarts the next day even his racing broom had been packed away. In the other corner stood an antique wardrobe.
He sighed deeply, staggered slightly into the room and got ready for bed. He crawled into the silk bedding in nothing but some green silk boxers (his families a big fan of silk if you haven't noticed) and slipped into a nightmarish sleep filled with his mothers screams, his fathers insults, The Dark Lords high laugh and Harry Potter laughing with his friends as if there wasn't a war going on outside Hogwarts' walls. Lord he hated Harry Potter.
He awoke at Dawn the light hitting his face,' I forgot to close the curtains damn it. Oh well' he didn't care very much about waking up early anyway he was excited about going back to Hogwarts again. It was his sixth year there. He quickly got dressed (a black turtleneck, tan dockers and black and white sneakers) and called for some house elves to take his trunk down to the car.
At breakfast he sat with his back to the door, his father the end of the long banquet table his mother at the other. Draco looked at his mother, she looked no worse for ware but she had that far of look in her eyes once more.
Lucius looked at his only son and heir with piercing blue grey eyes, "So you're a perfect Draco." His father spoke coldly trying to gain control of the silence.
"Yes." Draco speared a piece of bacon.
" Your grades must be better if you want to be Head boy next year." A slight anger under toning his voice.
'My grades are the best in Slytherine and better then you could ever do! You ASSHOLE!! ' He thought to himself," I'm first or second in all my classes you BLOODY GIT! Only the Mudblood does any better, and she doesn't have to think about half the things I do!' Draco smirked into his plate; his father was such a moron, " Yes sir"
After breakfast he kissed his mother goodbye, Hugging her tightly he whispered into her ear, " Soon". Then he was almost shoved out the door. He opened the car door, 'soon!'